The Best Laid Plans
by StarryDreamer01
Summary: A/U "She'd want to know." The words haunt Sam Swarek, but will he be able to tell Andy how he feels before it's too late and she marries Luke? post- S1x07, pre-S2x05 story


**A/N:** This story was prompted while I read the novel "The Future of Us." In the novel Emma's friend Kellan asks "when you look over in a car, who's the person you'd want to see next to you?" Supposedly the first person that comes to mind is your one true love. In the novel they called it "the Husband Theory." I sort of jumped off from there and went back in Rookie Blue time, to when Andy was engaged to Luke. This is very much a A/U fic, but I figured we needed a little bit of romance what with the current state of McSwarek ;-)

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"She's getting married tomorrow," Oliver Shaw said, his voice measured. It had to be said and someone needed to say it.

Sam Swarek nodded his head and raised his eyebrows as though Oliver's statement was the most obvious comment in the world. "Yeah. I know. So?"

"So… I'm just saying…" He swallowed hard at the awkward tension between them. "You might want to tell her, is all." He shrugged, his face reddening as he tucked his fingers into the shoulders of his kevlar vest.

His friend's lips curled into a snarl. "Tell her what, exactly?" He snapped.

Oliver Shaw was a romantic at heart. He'd often felt burdened by it, as though he could see things that those around him couldn't.

"Like a curse?" His wife had once asked, laughing. If it was a curse, it was because of that curse that he could see that when Andy McNally was around, Sam Swarek became a very different, even better man.

Sam was his best friend, his brother even. And as a brother he'd decided that something needed to be said before it was too late.

"You know… that…" Sam gave a look that read confusion. Oliver recognized that look as one that liars gave and he saw right through it. Resigned to the embarrassment of it all (men really just don't talk about these things), Oliver finished with, "it's your last chance if you wanted to let her know how you feel."

There. He'd said it. It was out in the universe and it was now up to his friend to do something about it before it was too late.

"I'm not having this conversation with you," his friend said at last, his voice sounding like a growl. "She's getting married to Callaghan tomorrow. That's that."

Oliver nodded, eager to soothe Sam's rising anger. "Right, right. You're right." He stepped away, palms facing outward begging forgiveness. "It's none of my business." He turned and moved toward the locker rooms, groaning inwardly; his wife would kill him if he'd squandered an opportunity to get one last word in.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back to his friend. "You should tell her though. She'd want to know." And with that, he said no more and disappeared into the men's locker room, his words hanging in the air.

"Hey. You can still drive me home, right?" The very subject of Sam and Oliver's conversation rounded the corner.

"Yah, absolutely," Sam replied. In fact, he'd been waiting by the locker rooms for her. Where Andy McNally was concerned, he never forgot a promise. "You ready?"

She nodded, eager to leave. The two headed out to the car park; Andy oblivious to the conversation that had proceeded her and Sam haunted by Oliver's last minute words.

_She'd want to know._

Would she though? Andy McNally was a planner. Every evening she would lay out her clothes for the next morning. When Sam discovered this, he'd reminded her that they wore a uniform and that he doubted any one really cared what clothes they wore outside of work.

"I care!" And she did. What her partner didn't know was that choosing her clothes every night gave her something to control amidst a life that seemed to lack control. It was the same reason she loved the uniform. It was predictable. Stable. Every day the same. She'd even agreed to marry Luke for the very reason that he was stable and predictable. It was easier that way. No surprises.

Sam Swarek, however, was not a planner. He couldn't care less about what he wore to work; often his socks didn't even match. He'd just pull out two pairs that looked alike and called it a day. If anything, he was an observer. Sam watched those around him, quiet and stoic, every move he took was measured by observations he'd previously made. It was because of this that Sam had refused to tell Andy how he really felt.

He knew she saw him as her training officer. Maybe even as a friend, at best. Her ride home when it was raining, the person she bounced ridiculous ideas off of, like a division-wide yoga class. While she may look at him with wide-eyed trust, he figured she didn't love him in return. It was because of these observations that Sam kept his feelings to himself.

As Sam pulled his truck to the curb in front of Andy and Luke's house, he knew that this would probably be the last time she'd ask him for a ride home. Tomorrow she'd be Mrs. Callaghan. Sam figured that soon Luke would drive her on days that it rained and would be the one to tell her that no one would attend a yoga class in lieu of beers at the Penny.

"Here we are," he said at last, the ride to her house strangely silent. Typically Andy talked the whole way, filling the air with stories of how she'd once tried to sneak out of her bedroom window but had felt too guilty and climbed right back in.

That day, however, she'd said nothing. Nothing, until: "I'm scared."

Sam faced her and furrowed his brows. "Scared? Of what?"

She took a laboured sigh. "Of getting married."

"Luke's a good guy." The words came automatically. It was a turn of phrase he'd run in his head over and over again, as though somehow justifying her choice to himself.

She nodded, her head facing forward, avoiding eye contact. "He's reliable. Solid." The words spilled out, mechanical. "But I worry about…" she paused, unwilling to give too much away. Andy McNally was a planner after all. "About not taking the other road. The one… you know, less travelled."

_Was she suggesting something?_ Sam nodded. "Luke's a good guy," he repeated. "You'll be happy."

At that Andy's head turned toward Sam. "Will I?" She said, almost desperate.

"Andy…" He didn't want to lie to her, couldn't bare to tell her that she'd be miserable in the very routine that she thought was safe and reliable.

"Sam?" She lowered her head, eyes focusing on an invisible spot on the back of her hand. "Can you give me one reason why I shouldn't marry Luke." She looked back up at him again, her brown eyes meeting his own. "Just one reason."

He pursed his lips, mouth dry as he attempted to regain control over himself. It was an invitation. She was begging him for a reason, pleading for something, anything.

_She'd want to know. _

Maybe she does want to know. Maybe that's what she was really asking.

_Just one reason._

But there were too many variables to consider. It was what it was… _wasn't it_?

"Sam?"

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. "No." His voice was barely above a whisper as he shook his head, lying to the very person he'd sworn never to lie to.

Andy felt as though she'd been kicked in the gut. She'd been so sure, positive even, that he'd…

"Okay," she said at last. After a beat, she opened the door to the truck and quickly said, "I'll see you tomorrow at the wedding then?" She didn't wait for his answer and instead slammed the door shut and ran for her porch as though it could shelter her from more than just the rain.

**…**

"Rain on your wedding day is good luck, Andy," Tommy McNally offered as he stood next to his daughter, looking out her bedroom window.

"That's what they tell brides to make them feel better," Andy replied, snippier than she'd intended.

"At least you thought to get a tent…" _No, Luke had wanted to get a ten_t, she thought to herself.

Andy would be lying if she said that she hadn't dreamed of what her wedding day might be like. Girlhood images of big poofy dresses, fog machines and hanging lanterns had littered her dreams from since she was a little girl. Everything in her imagination had told her that her wedding day would be her happiest. She knew that Luke was a good man, everyone told her as much and she'd seen it on many occasion for herself. When he'd proposed she'd wanted nothing more than to marry him. Or at least she thought she'd wanted to marry him.

Now everything was feeling like a charade. That all along she was playing some character; someone that belonged with Luke. It was like she was always trying to be the perfect girlfriend and coming up short.

When she'd asked Sam for a reason, she'd prayed that he'd give one. That he'd want her to be with him instead. In truth she'd hoped he would tell her that it _wasn't_ what it was. That the night of the blackout had meant something more to him, just like it had meant something to her. That it wasn't just a mistake or tempers which had flared because of the weather and gunfire.

She wanted to tell him that she'd made a mistake; that in all her planning she hadn't planned on falling for him along the way. But at Sam's no, it dashed her opportunity. That to him, _it was what it was._

"Dad—" Andy's voice cracked as she struggled to hold back tears. "What am I doing?" She sat on her bed, her veil splayed out behind her, eyes to the ceiling as though it would somehow spell out answers.

"Sweetheart! What's wrong?" Her father sat sidelong on the bed next to her. "Tell me."

"I can't," she whined. At this point it was too embarrassing. It was her wedding day and she was thinking about another man.

"This isn't about the rain is it? Because honestly, honey. It's just rain."

Andy groaned and brought her hand to her face. _What had she done? _"It's not the rain," she said at last. "It's Sam."

"Swarek!" Her eyes flew open. He'd said Sam's name as a statement rather than a question. She leapt to her feet and turned toward the door.

There, standing in the doorway of her bedroom, the room she normally shared with Luke, was Sam. His hands tucked into the pockets of his suit, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes on full display.

"Sam! What are you doing here?" She asked, her face red. Tommy looked at his daughter and then at Sam. With a raise of his eyebrows and a smirk that neither could read, he mumbled something and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

"Sam?" Andy shook her head, stunned. It was as though she was imagining it all.

He grimaced ever so slightly, the dimple in his right cheek flexing. He began to say something, but thought better of it, snapping his mouth closed.

"What?" She said, confused. _Please…!_

Silent, his eyes moved the course of her body, taking everything in. She looked resplendent, her hair knotted at her neck, a bejeweled crown locking her veil in place. When he'd walked into her room, he'd figured he'd be shaken by her, but he hadn't fully realized what he would find. He was taken aback so much so that for an instant Sam considered walking right back out the door. It would be too messy, she'd never forgive him. But when her eyes met his own all he could hear was:

_She'd want to know. _

So instead Sam stepped forward and in an instant his lips were on hers. She stumbled backward, the backs of her legs hitting the edge of the bed. Instinctively she grabbed at him to hold herself upright, his mouth never leaving hers. He pulled her tighter toward him and she felt as though she was folding into him. When she could no longer catch her breath, she pulled back. He looked down at her, his dark eyes blackening. While he hadn't said a word, it was as though he was questioning her.

_Was it what it was?_

She shook her head, answering his unspoken question. She wound her arms around him and in the faintest of voices she whispered against his lips, "it meant more, so much more…" Sam's heart leapt in his chest and his breath hitched in his throat as she pulled his head toward hers and kissed him, more fervent than before.

When they finally pulled apart gasping for breath, he wanted to ask her to leave with him, to forget everything and take a chance on _him_.

Before he could say anything, she spoke up. It was the voice of reason, the familiar mechanical voice of Andy the Planner. "Not today…"

It was as though someone punched him in the gut. All the air left his chest and he stepped backward, stunned.

"What?" His voice was louder than he intended.

"It's my wedding day Sam…" She said weakly. It sounded stupid even to her ears. Here she'd been kissing one man and was looking to stay at her wedding to a second. "I need to… I owe Luke an explanation." She said at last. "He deserves at least that."

Sam nodded as though he understood, but his face read as though he was angry. With himself? With her? With Luke? He didn't really know. He wanted Andy to come with him that second as though all their previously wasted minutes needed to be made up for.

She reached for his hand sensing his unsureness. Sam always did seem to wear his emotions on his face. "I have to deal with this. Remember what you said? Secrets don't come out neat and tidy." She smiled and rubbed her thumb against his hand. "I promise," she said, nodding her head.

At last his face broke into a small smile. "I guess I gave a good enough reason?"

Andy laughed and nodded her head. "You sure did." And with a squeeze of her hand, Sam left Andy confident to face the truth she'd been suppressing for well over a year.

**…**

The rain pelted against his truck as he sat in the parking lot of the Penny. He'd stuffed his suit jacket into the backseat where it laid in a crumpled mess. When he'd arrived at the wedding, much to his chagrin, he'd been a nervous wreck. But Andy had proven his doubts wrong and he'd left hopeful about their future together.

Yesterday he'd sworn to let her walk away. He'd figured Oliver's suggestion was the mindless mutterings of a man who wanted all his friends to be in relationships. But when Sam had lied to her, telling her that he couldn't think of a reason as to why she shouldn't marry Luke, he'd noticed a brief flicker in her eyes. She hadn't planned on his answer; she'd counted on him for the truth, she probably even knew it herself. When he saw her flinch at his response and run to her porch, he knew instantly that he'd made a mistake.

That night he went from observer to planner, trying to figure out what he would say to convince her to choose him instead. When he'd reached the top of the stairs, he'd heard her say his name to Tommy and the well-practiced words he'd been planning went out the window. He'd stood there gaping, like a fish out of water. And so, he did what he did best: he took action.

A sharp knock against his passenger window startled him, waking him from his reverie. There, in the shadow of a street light, was Andy. What had been perfectly styled hair that morning was now wet and sticking to her face from the rain. He rolled the window down and smiled, a laugh seconds from escaping his lips.

Andy's mouth cocked to the side. "I was wondering if I could get a ride?" She asked, smirking.

"It's raining pretty hard, isn't it?" He reached across the passenger side and opened the door. She climbed in with ease and patted the droplets of rain from her coat.

"Why are you hanging out in the parking lot of a bar anyway?" Her eyes on his face, he could almost feel the tease in her voice.

"I was going to grab a beer," he replied honestly. "You're welcome to join me."

Andy's grinned, shaking her head. "I have a better idea." Her body shifted toward him. "There's this yoga class I was hoping to go to…" She leaned into him, her lips hovering over his. "Maybe you'd want to join me?"

His breath hot against her mouth, he replied, "you know how I feel about yoga class…"

She felt a sudden rush of heat in her face as she confessed at last, "I think I can change your mind about that." Silenced, Sam succumbed to Andy's plan. Hours later, with Andy's body pressed against his own in the tangled mess of his bed, he made one final observation: that perhaps there was merit to those yoga classes instead of beer at the Penny after all.

.**:FIN:.**

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